


So plain glazed a yes

by jijal



Category: BTOB
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-15 16:39:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18077093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jijal/pseuds/jijal
Summary: Maybe Sungjae ordered a large, black coffee at his go-to coffee shop to impress the new barista.





	So plain glazed a yes

Maybe Sungjae ordered a large, black coffee at his go-to coffee shop to impress the new barista.

And maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't have. Staring at it on the small, round wooden table in front of him, steaming hot and filled almost all the way to the brim, one big mug of evil, he wishes he could turn it into the strawberry latte and blueberry muffin he ordered in an alternate universe, where the nice girl with the short hair hadn't been replaced by a new, intimidating barista to take his order. Where Sungjae didn’t panic the first time their eyes met, two people in front of him in the queue and his brain going into overdrive, because, shit, he was kind of cute, and Sungjae couldn’t possibly go for his kids meal of an order, as Ilhoon once called it, and still hope to stand a chance with him. As the person in front of him paid and left and Sungjae was forced to step forward, towards the counter, the barista looked up at him, a small, playful glint in his eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips. He raised his eyebrows in a mixture of amusement and confusion, Sungjae silently contemplating his order for the hundredth time in two minutes, until the words finally tumbled past his lips.

“Black. No milk, no sugar, please.”

The barista nodded, typed the order into the cash register and read out the total, and regret washed over Sungjae as he handed him his card to pay. Not only would he not have his cherished go-to breakfast before starting a long, long day at the office, the prospect of having to drink straight up black coffee had him question if a strawberry latte was actually that ridiculous of a drink to begin with, Ilhoon be damned. He watched the barista prepare the new orders, quick hands fetching milk, ice, whatever it was he needed within a second or two, putting it all into a big blender and slender fingers fishing for straws or a small pack of sugar on the side, and picked up his coffee with a tight smile two minutes later. The barista’s clear, silver voice calling out his number still stuck in his head, Sungjae scuffled towards one of the many empty tables by the wall, putting down the tray and plumping down onto the chair.

He spent minutes aimlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed, stopping for a moment to stir the coffee every now and then, in a desperate attempt to not only have it cool down but turn into something actually drinkable, while coming to terms with the fact that is one wish that he won’t be granted. One look at his watch, ten to nine, and he has yet to one, start drinking his overpriced coffee and two, make the barista fall in love with him.

Taking a deep breath, Sungjae mentally prepares himself for what he’s about to subject himself to, gives the mug another pointed stare and takes the first sip before he can stall any longer, regretting the decision a second later, every single tastebud in his mouth rebelling and having him set the cup back down in defeat. He can’t help but grimace at the taste, and his ears get hot as he remembers that he’s not alone, risking a sheepish glance at the barista, who’s currently trying — and failing — to pretend he wasn't watching and biting back an amused grin at the scene. Sungjae suppresses the urge to curse under his breath, redirecting his attention to the problem at hand instead, eager to appear unfazed by the unwanted, distracting audience. There is no way, _no way_ , he is going to return his tray with even a sip of coffee left, he isn’t going to lose to this insulting excuse of a morning beverage and the barista who must have placed a bet, if the way his gaze keeps landing on Sungjae from across the room was any indication.

Once the bitter taste has left his tongue, Sungjae forces down another three gulps, so hastily he almost chokes on it, and gives himself a mental pat on the shoulder. All he needs now is to figure out how to swallow the remaining quarter litre without tasting any of it.

His head shoots up as he notices the barista leaving his spot behind the counter from the corner of his eyes, making his way over to the tables lined up by the windows and picking up straws and receipts left behind, wiping the table tops clean of any spilled coffee or crumbs. Sungjae takes his time to eye him up from top to bottom, now that the barista is busy and he has the chance to actually _look_ at him; his slightly wavy, chocolate brown hair, the white shirt and dark blue apron on top. One of his sleeves is rolled up, and Sungjae thinks he saw part of a tattoo peak out from beneath the sleeve on the other side. He isn’t a big fan of them himself, but he lets his mind wander off, dying of curiosity, wondering what it might say or be about and the story behind it, and if there are any more hidden from customers’ eyes.

"You know, they say you can tell a lot about a person by the coffee they drink,” the barista says, and Sungjae jumps, having been pulled out of his thoughts without warning. His eyes focus on his surroundings again, the coffeeshop, almost empty apart from the two of them and a man sitting at a table near the counter, headphones in and gaze fixed on his computer screen in concentration, and the barista, who’s made his way along the window covered wall up to the table next to Sungjae’s. “But you’re not actually drinking that, are you?”

“No, I am,” Sungjae says, maybe a little too defensive and his grip around the mug tightening, pulling it towards him almost instinctively, as if the barista was about to take it from him and run any second. “I’m just taking my time.”

The barista snorts. “Alright.”

And with that, he turns around, not losing another word, and Sungjae loses control over his face for a moment at how quickly he ended the conversation. This is not how it was supposed to go, and although Sungjae was counting on the barista to keep things rolling, he is not about to let this opportunity go to waste.

“So, what—what does it say about me?” he asks, awfully aware of how obviously he wants to keep the conversation going, but also willing to trample his own ego if it means he can get to know the mysterious, frustratingly stubborn barista just a little bit better. He clears his throat. “The coffee, I mean.”

The barista turns back around to Sungjae, letting out a deep breath. He gives Sungjae’s cup a pointed look, before looking up at Sungjae, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“Black coffee. A flirt. Witty. A good friend to be around, but prone to mood swings." He makes a little pause. “Wears their heart on their sleeve, always up for something fun, and adventurous in romance.”

Sungjae shoots him a mocking, unbelieving look.

“Are you making all of this up just to flirt with me?”

The barista breaks out into a chuckle, and Sungjae doesn't miss a beat to go one better.

“You could have just asked for my number.”

"And where'd be the fun in that?” the barista shoots back, having Sungjae open his mouth but, much to his dismay, he finds his head wiped clean of anything he could say in response and is forced to close it again, sinking back against the uncomfortable cushion of his seat.

“What about you, then?”

“Me? Latte. Laid back and reflective. A good listener, but hard to approach. Also pretty indecisive.”

Sungjae nods, slowly, processing the information, although it all sounds like something out of a news tablet his mother likes to read at the hair salon and gush about with her friends over a cup of tea. It’s silly, Sungjae isn’t even sure if the barista believes it, but he figures there is little he wouldn’t entertain the thought of for him.

“Anyway,” the barista says, “your coffee's getting cold, and it's five past nine, in case there's somewhere you were supposed to be five minutes ago.”

Sungjae’s stomach drops and his eyes go wide.

“Shit,” he mutters, hastily shoving his phone into the pocket of his slacks and grabbing his bag from underneath the table. "I'm done for.”

His boss’ death glare and scolding, loud voice already clear as day in his mind, he leaps up from his seat and stumbles past the barista towards the exit, almost knocking down a table in the process.

"I'll buy you another if you make it back here alive,” the barista calls after him, Sungjae stopping dead in his tracks. He whips his head around.

"No, thanks—I—I mean. Yes, I’d love to—but no more black coffee. Please get rid of that for me.”

The barista hangs his head, snickering and Sungjae gives a quick, thankful nod and continues his sprint outside, along the sidewalk from the coffeeshop to the entrance of one of the countless high, clean office buildings, trying his best not to bump into any of the other workers rushing inside and in the direction of the elevators. He manages to catch one, counting the seconds it takes to go up to the twelfth floor, nervously, impatiently tapping his foot and his eyes fixed on the doors until the _ding_ finally announces their arrival. He quickly rounds two corners, as fast as his feet allow, and relief washes over him when he sees the door to his team’s office still open.

Still struggling to catch his breath, he collapses onto his chair in their shared office, earning himself an irritated side glance from Ilhoon at the dramatic entrance and the stupid, happy grin creeping up his lips. He wipes away the sweat beginning to build on his forehead and turns on the computer, checking the time in the corner of his screen.

Ten past nine, and Sungjae’s heart makes a leap as he remembers he can cross one of his two goals for the morning off his list.

**Author's Note:**

> a short dumb coffeeshop au. based on [this](https://otp-fanfic-ideas.tumblr.com/post/148120339606/imagine-your-otp) prompt, the title is a line from a netflix show called you, it stuck with me and literally has nothing to do with the fic, staying on brand in 2019 ([twitter](http://www.twitter.com/jungsilhoon))


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